


we'll stay the same

by anthropologicalhands



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, literally no spoilers, mind sharing, they get their dance in almost the way they want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy's not surprised to find that in the privacy of his own mind, Steve is still small.</p><p>Or:</p><p>Steve and Peggy have their night at the Stork Club via mind-sharing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll stay the same

It doesn’t much surprise Peggy to find that Steve, in the privacy of his own mind, still thinks of himself as small.

It surprises him, certainly, but it makes sense to her. Peggy is used to feeling different depending on the day and who she is with. Since Steve returned to her, despite the dementia and the withering of her flesh, she finds that thinks of herself more and more as the young woman she currently appears to be.

And, in some ways, her heart is all the fuller for seeing Steve as he once was. Images and video of Captain America abound in the twenty-first century, but of the man she first fell in love with, there is only the one photograph, still tucked away among her most precious possessions.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, as though he is inconveniencing her. “I didn’t think that this would happen.”

“That Asgardian magic would let us have our dance the way we wanted?” She says, eyebrows arched. “I must agree.”

In this shared space of their minds, Steve looks very smart, dressed crisply in a uniform that fits far better than the one he received and his hair combed in that old style. He is still very handsome, still recognizably Steve in the way he leads her to the dance floor, jittery and a little awkward.

They have danced before—in the real world, in the privacy of her bedroom on a good day—and she would be more than content with those, when she rests her cheek against his chest, feeling the strumming of his heart, his arms very carefully around her.

She treasures those dances, when she remembers them.

So it’s an adjustment, dancing with a pre-serum Steve. He’s actually a little shorter than her, but in some ways it makes everything nicer. Certainly, it is easier to maintain eye contact, easier to murmur instructions in his ear. They are cheek to cheek, close enough that she can feel the warmth of his blush. His hand is too light on her waist, but that will change as he gains a little more confidence.

He manages to laugh, his breath a warm puff in her ear. “Thor’s a good guy like that.”

This scenario is a purely mental experience, but Peggy still feels her skin tingle at the sensation. She doesn’t know if this—this sharing of minds, illusion, a vision, however you call it—makes these sensations real for her elderly body, asleep in her bed, but she relishes them, regardless.

“And that’s not what I meant, you know that,” he says affectionately, moving to twirl her. She follows, relishing how easily her young body moves, the way her skirt swirls around her knees. “I mean, I guess I didn’t think too hard about what I’d look like coming in here. I mean, I know I’m not—not like this anymore.”

He laughs again, this time ruefully. “You’d think I’d be used to it.”

He’s not quite meeting her eyes now. He’s embarrassed, she realizes. He thinks he messed up, not presenting himself as square-jawed and towering and heroic.

Peggy decides some perspective is in order.

“You were the same size for twenty-five years, Steve. You have had the serum for less than a quarter of that time.” She smiles at him, a tiny bit flirtatious, and revels in how deeply he blushes. “I, on the other hand, have not looked like this in decades. _I’m_ the one with the distorted personal image, if we must choose.”

“But that doesn’t matter,” objects Steve immediately, because of course he does. “You’re still Peggy.”

“That is very sweet of you to say, Steve. You are also proving my point. Just because your appearance changed doesn’t mean you changed how you think about yourself.”

“Well, I could,” he says. “This is all in our heads, so I _could_ make myself bigger, probably, you know, if I concentrate—”

“Oh, please don’t,” says Peggy. “You’re still Steve. It doesn’t matter.”

Steve stops moving, though his arms do not move from around her waist. Peggy stops with him, and waits.

“But isn’t that what this was about?” he asks, confused. “I mean, we didn’t make plans to dance when I was like this.”

Peggy rolls her eyes and tugs Steve closer. Caught off balance, he nearly stumbles into her. But this is all part of the plan; she catches his wrist in one hand, wraps her other arm more firmly around his waist and tips him backwards in a proper dip.

“I would have asked you to dance even if the serum hadn’t worked,” she informs him. “I would have found a way to keep you in the war effort, preferably with the SSR. Even if I had had to stretch the details a bit. Fudge some paperwork.”

Steve just stares up her, adorably baffled. “Really?”

Oh, he is an _idiot_. He knows that she saw something worthwhile in him before the serum, but somehow he does not make the leap to her being _attracted_ to him before the serum as well as after.

Peggy nods.

“Why would you want to dance on a guy you could step on?” he asks, brow furrowing.

“Don’t be silly,” she bends down and kisses him. A full, proper kiss that he returns enthusiastically. It is…different from kissing Steve as he is now, but still very much _kissing Steve_ , which is separate from kissing her long deceased husband and both are miles beyond the few other men who came before.

“Because he was kind and clever and sweet,” she says when they part. “Women pay attention to that sort of thing. Even if you only stayed on as an aide or a cartographer, it would have been easy to fall in love with you.”

She sets him upright again, and they resume their dance. This time Steve leads a little better, his frame sturdy and secure, his hand a warm pressure at her waist. He’s smiling more naturally now, more at ease.

“I don’t know if that would have worked out so well,” he says, his voice and the set of his face particularly serious—but there is a twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrays good humor. “Gorgeous dame like you, paying attention to a scrawny kid like me? You saw my medical records. I had trouble with heart palpitations _before_ I met you.”

“Then I would have had to seduce you very slowly,” she says, also mock serious, _desperately_ trying to not laugh.

“Would you?”

“Oh, yes.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “How slowly?”

Ooh, the modern day has made him _cheeky_. She quite likes it when he lets this side show.

“I was a deep cover operative, Steve. Just as good as Agent Romanoff in my day. You wouldn’t have noticed until we were standing at the altar.”

“Now _there’s_ a thought,” says Steve.

Peggy smiles, and fights the urge to lean in and kiss him again. This is a vision, it is meant to create a night that never happened, and that night is supposed to be perfectly lovely and romantic and essentially chaste. Not with her dragging him into a dark corner and doing scandalous things that would make both Starks blush.

“Honestly, Steve, you look wonderful. We’re here. We’re dancing. You haven’t stepped on my feet once. We have as much time as we need. It’s perfect.”

This time, he kisses her, pulling her flush against him. She squeaks when he shifts his grip around her waist and the back of her neck and she’s suddenly upside down. She laughs—she’s fairly certain that he’s imitating a _very_ particular, _very_ famous pose.

Always with the dramatics.

Ah, to hell with it, she thinks fuzzily, dragging him closer, sinking more deeply into the kiss. This is their memory, their time. No one else is looking.

And, if she is fair to herself, if their hypothetical date had been made, it probably would have still ended with her dragging him into a dark corner.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Steve and Peggy having their dance in any way at all always gives him warm fuzzies. Then the idea of Peggy and Pre-Serum Steve has become intriguing.


End file.
